


inbetween the s p a c e s

by crytalstellar



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Introspective-ish, Reader Insert, Saeran-centric, Slight Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crytalstellar/pseuds/crytalstellar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>not everything is meant to be taken at face value. (takes place after Secret 02)</p>
            </blockquote>





	inbetween the s p a c e s

**Author's Note:**

> ugh. This was a lot better in my mind. LOLOL. I am the kind of person who tries to always ask if someone slept well just cuz my mom always asked me before went crazy and anyway, when i first told my boyfriend i loved him he told me that he already knew and i asked him how and he told me it was because i would always ask if he slept well and that was something not even his mom would ask. so i guess that is the theme of this. 
> 
> Additionally, Unknown is referred to by name here.

 

Every morning, Saeran receives a text.

The time occasionally varies, the words are sometimes different, but the meaning behind them always remains the same.

> _Good morning! Sleep well?_

Saeran wonders why you always ask this question. Why is it any of your concern to know if he slept well or not? But all the same, he always answers your morning text and goes about his day like normal. Sometimes a conversation will ensue, and sometimes not. Saeran doesn’t mind, though, his phone already gets enough notifications from the RFA app as it is. 

Day after day, the cycle continues.

He begins to play his own little game with the text messages. When will you send it? How will you word it? Sometimes he’s right, which is cause for amusement, and sometimes he’s wrong, but for some reason it’s okay. It's a loss he doesn’t mind taking.

Eventually, Saeran finds that he’s started to look forward to those "sleep well" texts, although it’s not something he’d ever willingly admit to your face.

There are some mornings where Saeran will wake up drenched in sweat, heart racing, hands clutching at anything in reach. Try as he might, he knows he can’t escape the nightmares and the memories of a past best forgotten. He never mentions these nightmares to you when you ask, because he sees no reason to let you know, to let you in.

But one morning when Saeran jolts awake, labored breaths heaving in and out of his chest and tears forming in his eyes, the flashing notification light on his phone is the first thing he sees. He reaches out and grasps the phone like a lifeline, pulling it close. He clicks the side button to turn on the screen and the a pop up shows the text message in its entirety. 

> _Morning, Saeran! Sleep okay?_

Before he can even think, his fingers are typing out a response.

> _No._

And before he can stop himself, he’s hitting the send button.

Once it’s all done, he gawks at the phone in his hand as if it’s committed a heinous crime. He reels his arm back to throw his phone away but when he feels it buzzing in his hand he's compelled to bring it back down to see your response. He's never said no to one of your texts before, so he can't help but be curious about what you have to say.

> _Do you want to talk about it?_

He stares at his phone, contemplating a response. In the meantime, it buzzes again.

> _It’s okay, if not. I don’t want to bother you._

Saeran's fingers hover over the keyboard in hesitation He takes a deep breath and decides that he’ll tell you, he's already come this far, there’s no harm in confiding in you, right? As he begins to type out the what happened, his fingers freeze, not ready to relive the nightmare just yet. But still, he feels the need to send you something, so instead he merely tells you that he had a nightmare.

It takes a minute for the response to arrive.

>   _Oh. I’m sorry, Saeran. :’(  Oh, but I’m really bad at this comforting thing tho…_

He frowns, confused by your words. Why would you ask such questions if you weren’t prepared for the consequences?

> _But if you want, I can come over? Maybe a hug or something will help you feel better?_

Saeran’s eyes widen and his face warms as the blood rushes to his cheeks. You would come over just for that? Just over a nightmare? Just for a hug? For some reason the offer is tempting, but…

> _Of course, if you don’t want that, it’s okay. I just don’t know the words to make you feel better._

He doesn’t tell you that the sentiment is enough. 

But from there on, Saeran begins to find color in his previously monochrome days. He finds he starts looking forward to things, to your texts, your visits, your smile… It takes him a while to figure out that everything he looks forward to involve you in some way. Every time he begins to wonder why he stops himself. Saeran knows that if he follows that thought to its end, he’ll never be able to go back again.

Instead he follows a different line of thought, the one where he wonders why you do the things you do.  There’s no reason or benefit for you, so why? It’s like a code he can’t break; an algorithm he can’t decode. But instead of internalizing it like he does with everything else in his life, one day he gathers the courage to ask.

“Why do you always send me those text messages?”

You tilt your head to the side, a cute, but slightly confused expression gracing your features. “Hm?”

“The ones in the morning,” Saeran elaborates. 

“Oh!”  you bring a finger up and lightly tap it against your lips, thinking. For some reason, Saeran's eyes focus in on the action. It takes one, two, three taps before you offer him a warm smile that makes his heart race into a frenzy. “Hm… Well, I just want you to have a good day, each and every day. And every day starts with a good sleep, so…”

Saeran gawks as your grin widens. He doesn’t even hear the next words that come out of your mouth as the image of that smile ingrains itself in his mind along with the realization of what all of his thoughts and feelings really mean.

The screams of his heart can no longer fall on deaf ears.

They’re so loud, so strong that they permeate through everything- his words, his actions, his entire being.

It’s so bad that even Saeyoung notices it. He sees the way Saeran’s eyes light up when his phone buzzes, the way Saeran runs to the door when there’s a visitor, the softness Saeran takes on when he interacts with you and only you.

Of course, Saeran denies all of his brother’s allegations of him changing or even falling in l-o-v-e, because there’s no way he’ll admit Saeyoung is right about this, or anything for that matter. The last thing Saeran needs is another voice screaming out about how he’s fallen hard.

Each and every day, the voice gets louder in his head, slowly pushing out all other thoughts. It’s frustrating; almost even maddening. How is it possible for one’s head to just be filled with thoughts of one other person?

He doesn’t understand.

It makes him mad.

So much so that one day, he lashes out at you.

Like every other expression you've shown him, the hurt look on your face as he spews an angry garble of words engraves itself in his mind. His heart clenches when you look away to hide the tears threatening to fall from your eyes from him.

The comforting words and apologies he wants to say surface in his mind, but instead he silences them by telling you, "Get out of my sight.”

The way you dejectedly scurry from the room, from the house, is almost enough to kill him.

It dawns on him that after such hearing such venomous words that you may never come back.

But he can’t bring himself to tell you he’s sorry. He's sorry for being like this. He's sorry he made you leave. He's sorry that he said those horrible things to you. 

And yet, though some miracle or curse,  your texts still come, but he doesn't answer. He can't bring himself to.

> _Morning, Saeran, did you sleep okay?_
> 
> _Saeran! I hope you slept well!_

He doesn’t understand how you can keep texting him after what he said to you. He doesn’t understand how you can still _care._

But, god, he can’t describe how happy it makes him.

Despite that, he can’t be with you, you’re just too good, too pure for a godforsaken sinner like him.

And Saeyoung… of course, Saeyoung notices how you've stopped visiting; it is his house after all. Saeran is sure that he knows, that he somehow heard everything because one day Saeyoung comes up, pats him on the shoulder and tells him, “...you know, even sinners can be redeemed.”

Saeran doesn’t want to believe his brother.

But then again, who would know better than Saeyoung? He's probably sinned far more than Saeran ever has and yet he manages to live a happy life with someone who loves him in spite of all that.

Maybe life isn’t fair, but maybe it’s trying to be.

Your texts still come every morning without fail. It makes no sense to him how you can just go on and keep texting him like nothing ever happened. Especially when he doesn't even answer. One day, he can't take it any more and gathers the courage to send you a reply.

> _Why do you keep texting me?_

The answer is almost instantaneous. _Read between the lines and you’ll know._

Saeran doesn’t understand.

He picks at his brain over and over, dissecting everything you’ve ever said to him. He pulls at the words and searches their every nook and cranny, but he still doesn’t understand. He even asks Saeyoung and his fiancee for help, but all they can do is offer him kind, yet knowing smiles. This, they tell him, is something he needs to figure out for himself. 

The text messages keep coming, but they contain no clue, no hint to what it is you're trying to tell him. 

Or do they?

It feels like the answer is right in front of him, and yet, he can't seem to figure it out.

One morning Saeran jerks awake, heart thumping loud in his chest, his body shaking all over, but the blinking light of his phone shines like a beacon of hope. He reaches out for it and pulls it close, like it's the only thing keeping him sane. He accidentally hits the lock button and the screen illuminates, a single text message displayed on the screen. A wave of deja vu washes over him as he recalls the last time this happened.

_'... if you want, I can come over. Maybe a hug or something will make you feel better?'_

That's what you had said then. He'd basically turned you down, finding it hard to believe that you would come over just to give him a hug. Saeran closes his eyes, wondering if you'd come, even now, even though he said those things to you, even though he stopped answering you. 

And the answer resounds in his heart, echoing louder and stronger than any other thought.

_You would._

Suddenly it's like every single piece of the puzzle has lined up. Saeran can't help but laugh. You're far too good, far too pure for someone like him. And maybe that's why he couldn't see, why he refused to see. He was already damned to hell, he didn't want to drag someone like you down with him.

But, every text you've sent him is proof of your insistence for damnation.

And god, he can't describe how happy that makes him.

Saeran cradles the phone in his hand like it's the most precious thing in the world and Saeran re-reads your text, realizing what it's really saying in between every word and every space.

Now that he knows, he can't deny you or himself any longer and swiftly types out a reply.

> _I need to see you._

This time he doesn’t hesitate the hit the send button.

Three words. Eight letters.

Perhaps it’s time for him to finally say them aloud.

  



End file.
